The Flame That Guides Us Home
by Slytherstein
Summary: Set in the Marauder's 6th year, tensions are high with the increasing threat of Death Eaters. When a heated competition between snakes and lions goes horribly awry, these divided groups find themselves stuck in Medieval Europe during the witch trials, and only through working together can they ever hope to return home. But will they be able to look past their own prejudices?
1. Unwelcome Yearnings

**The Flame That Guides Us Home**

 **Author:** Slytherstein and Lehrain

 **Rating:** T (violence, language, slightly suggestive material)

 **Spoilers:** All

 **Genre:** Adventure/Romance

 **Main Character(s):** James Potter, Severus Snape, Lily Evans, Regulus Black, Sirius Black and Bellatrix Black

 **Secondary Character(s** ): Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Barty Crouch, Jr., Narcissa Black, and Emmeline Vance

 **Ship(s):** JamesxLily, SeverusxLily, RodolphusxBellatrix, BartyxBellatrix, LuciusxNarcissa, RabastanxAndromeda, RegulusxNatalia, SiriusxEmmeline, and FrankxAlice

 **Summary:** Set in the Marauder's 6th year, tensions are high with the increasing threat of Death Eaters. When a heated competition between snakes and lions goes horribly awry, these divided groups find themselves stuck in Medieval Europe during the witch trials, and only through working together can they ever hope to return home. But will they be able to look past their own prejudices?

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.

 **A/N:** This is a collabed fic, written by myself and my sister, Lehrain.

* * *

The Flame That Guides Us Home

Chapter I

"Unwelcome Yearnings"

…

" _We know what we are, but know not what we may be."_

 _~ William Shakespeare_

…

In the dense, dark forest, whispers floated through the treetops, carried by the wind here and there, before dispersing into nothingness. A single, flickering bonfire was visible through the foliage, the only light save the dim illumination of the crescent moon overhead. Smoke wafted through the air, but even this was blocked by the encirclement of black, hooded figures surrounding the fire.

They all stood perfectly still, as if transfixed in place. Not one movement could be spotted across the group. Except one.

One single, lone figure, dressed in the same dark apparel, paced rhythmically, in a fluid, serpentine motion, around the flames, in front of the figures, occasionally meeting the gazes of those who looked upon him. One arm was at his side, but the other long, slender appendage was held up, at the level of his glowing, red eyes, with a knife enclosed in his bony grasp.

"Welcome, my friends."

His voice was like a hiss when he finished the word " _friends_ ", yet calm and composed, as if he had all the answers to life and death contained within the recesses of his mind, just behind that slippery tongue. The tongue he used to speak to them so adoringly, as if no other person in the world could compare to their importance. To their elevated and noble ancestry. As if it was a privilege to even stand in their presence.

"I am pleased to see so many of you have come," the old sorcerer continued, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. "Believe me when I say that I could not have asked for any more worthy to join my cause, my _family_ , than these faces I see before me tonight."

Pride swelled within all their chests at this man's praise. They were prepared. Prepared to do what was necessary. Prepared to do all that this man would come to ask of them.

"If you would all please, each of you, extend your _left_ arm to me," he requested, the smile never leaving his expression, the kind tone perfectly in place beneath every word he poured out of his mouth.

"Why the left, my lord?" one of the figures, a man with long, dark hair, dared to ask.

The otherwise pleasant countenance upon the elder's face shifted, his crimson eyes flashing with sudden intensity, as they immediately came to rest upon this insolent fool. The fool who had dared to even _question_ him on such a matter.

"Do not question me!" his voice rose to match his forceful gaze. "It _has_ to be the left! Now, present to me your arm!"

At this outburst of their leader's, another, with an eternally composed façade, cleared his throat, shifting his silver eyes to rest upon the man who had spoken against the irate figure in front of them, before his voice came out in a smooth drawl, "He's quite right, there's no need to draw such attention to such a trivial matter. What does it matter if it's the left or the right arm? Merely do as he says."

"That's right!" a woman spoke out, her voice a bit more cutting than the man standing beside her, her dark eyes narrowed in a glare. "Never question the Dark Lord! You will do as he says! If he tells you to jump from a cliff, you shut your ungrateful mouth and jump! Now hold out your arm!"

The snakelike man gazed upon those who had come to follow him, a pleased glint now in his eyes as he listened to their exchange. Such devotion. Such loyalty. Yes, he would come to have much use for these qualities. He only looked more satisfied when everyone standing in the circle proceeded to extend their left arms, dutifully, the pale skin exposed and glimmering translucent in the glow of the fire.

He then proceeded forward, toward the man standing closest to him, who stared at him calmly, expectantly, and did not so much as flinch when the Dark Lord lowered the knife and began carving into the flesh of his forearm. The cuts were deep, but precise, artistic. As the ancient wizard moved down the line, making his way between each of them, carving his signature, his mark, into each of their arms, branding them as one of his own, the excitement shined from his expression, the glimmer taking hold of his red eyes.

When he stepped back, the blade dripping with the sanguine liquid, he then let it fall to the ground, with a loud clatter, as he then drew up his other arm, which held a long, ivory wand. With one single flick of his wrist, each of the marks embedded in the arms of those before him erupted in black flames, binding it with dark magic, and binding them to him.

The Dark Lord raised both arms, his smile proud and enthusiastic, eager, _elated_ , and he proceeded to address them as a whole:

"My friends. You are now… _Death Eaters_."

* * *

A loud whistle broke through the quaint countryside, as a vibrant red locomotive raced across the tracks, the metallic clink of the wheels reverberating through the interior compartments. In one particular compartment, there sat four troublemakers, engaged in light conversation with each other. One, with light brown hair, sat beside the window, a book in a hand, though he had long abandoned it at this point. It was almost a fruitless effort trying to catch up on any reading when he was in this specific company.

Just beside him, with an eager expression written all over his ratty face, a somewhat portly boy with sandy blonde hair and bright, shining blue eyes leaned forward, ever so enthusiastically, as if he just couldn't get enough of what his friends had to say. He drank it all in with an overwhelming sense of pride and belonging, savoring every nibble.

Across from the little fellow, sprawled out comfortably on the seat, his back against the armrest, a guy with black hair wore a smug expression. A few stray strands fell into his dark eyes, which were directed at the talker next to him, whose lap he had claimed as a resting place for his outstretched legs.

This fourth and final occupant reclined against the window sill, one arm propped up and his chin leaning lazily on his fist. The other hand was lowered, relaxing on his friend's knee, though he raised it every now and again as he spoke animatedly to the others, divulging the events of his past summer to them.

"Oh!" the eager blonde gasped when the boy was still mid-sentence, his eyes wide and mouth-agape. "What happened _next_ , James?!"

"Well, you see," the bespectacled teen continued, not missing a beat in spite of the interruption, "I tapped into my finely attuned reflexes—you know, years of Quidditch—and managed to roll out of the way right in the nick of time. The guy walked right past me, never suspected a thing. Ended up walking out of the store looking pretty confused, but…overall, probably didn't think it was anything more than him seeing things. You know, a trick of the light. Isn't that right, Padfoot?"

"That's right," the dark haired boy returned, offering him a playful smile and a knowing look.

James returned this with a smirk, before shifting his gaze back to the two sitting in front of them.

"That's crazy," the small one concluded. Turning then to his seating buddy for confirmation, he asked, "Isn't that crazy, Remus?"

"Oh, yes," the studious boy agreed simply, though he wore a somewhat chastising expression. "Though, I think, more than anything, it was a bit too…reckless." As an afterthought, however, he added, "And rude."

"Tch," James clicked his tongue, turning his head swiftly away and blowing off Remus' commentary as he instead turned to take a look outside the window. "We've never gotten caught _yet_ , why would this time be any different? Besides, it was just some harmless fun. Pranks are always a _little_ rude."

"I suppose," Remus conceded with a small sigh, lowering his gaze to take in the words on the page in front of him. Not that he was even reading them, really.

There wasn't much point arguing with them over this particular topic, their ways hadn't changed in the five years he had known them. Besides, a little rudeness _was_ a far cry better than some of the other shortcomings one could possess. It certainly exceeded his own share of troubles he carried with him, the burden he placed on them by involving them with him, with his secret.

"Wait a minute!"

At the shrill sound, James' hazel eyes darted over to the rotund boy, and he arched a single brow at him. "What's up, Peter?"

"Ah!" Peter scoffed, questions brimming in his eyes. "I'm just confused. How come…," he shook his head, "how come Sirius was there? And not us? Why does he know the story? Did you already tell him?"

"Uh…nope," James said, as if it should be obvious. "You were right the first time. He was there."

"He _was_?" Peter leaned forward with his words, before hanging his head in dejection. "I'm jealous."

"Well, then you're gonna be even _more_ jealous once you here _this_ , Wormtail," Sirius informed him, raising his head a fraction with a somewhat roguish glint in his eyes. "James and I are now living together. I moved in this summer."

Peter's head shot up at this new information, his mouth wide open, and his eyes impossibly wider. Even Remus looked up from his vain attempt at reading to award them both a look of perplexity.

"You did?" he asked, and a hint of concern became evident in the distinct crease in his brow. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Nothing _new_ ," the Black boy said with a slight eye roll, and an edge to his voice. "I just got fed up with it!" he waved a hand dismissively in the air.

"Oh," Remus lowered his eyes, feeling an overwhelming sympathy on his friend's behalf.

He had always had such a tough time at home, the tension with his family had been escalating for years, ever since he had first been sorted into Gryffindor. From what little Sirius had shared with them, his parents had been livid. Sometimes, it had even gotten a little violent. At least, that's what Remus had discerned. Perhaps it was a good thing Sirius had finally gotten himself out of that house. True, they were his family, but he always seemed so unhappy, just talking about them. It was such a harmful environment, it was apparent to all just how mad his mother was, and his father…well, his father seemed the submissive type, and that didn't help much of anything. Maybe Sirius could be happier now, and…wasn't that what really mattered?

"Jeez!" Peter exclaimed amidst the silent boy's inner musings, his mind on something else entirely. "Can _I_ get fed up so I can move in with James?"

"You have nothing to get fed up with!" Sirius snapped at the selfish child, instant annoyance taking hold of him.

"Jesus Christ!" Peter put his hands up defensively, though his voice took a somewhat sassy edge with his Black companion. "You _don't_ have to get so riled up. I'm just…expressing my feelings here. I'm allowed."

As Sirius decided to not respond to that nonsense, instead opting to roll his eyes, James gave Peter a meaningful look. "Yeah, you're allowed," he told him simply, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it doesn't mean he isn't right. You really… _don't_ have anything to get fed up with, Wormy. You're fine." With a slight tilt of his head, he added, " _And_ …that was kinda insensitive."

"Well… _rats_ ," Peter swore under his breath, thinking himself perfectly clever for coming up with such a great curse. He even giggled a little for it.

Now it was James' turn to roll his eyes.

At that moment, the train screeched to a halt, signaling its arrival at King's Cross Station, and students began filing out, flooding the platform, and the Marauders rose to their feet in their compartment, though it wasn't without a groan on Sirius' part. After grabbing their belongings, which took several minutes as they waited on Peter to put his many bags in order, they then proceeded down the aisle, and James was the first to hop off the train, tossing his trunk on the ground in front of him and landing next to it with an added flare.

Sirius and Remus were behind him, the young Black with a slight slouch, and Peter took up the rear, a pleased grin on his countenance, as he assessed the area.

" _The boys are back in town_!" he announced in his squeaky voice, to no one in particular, though a few stopped to cast stares in their direction. His smile widened further at the attention, even though it was obvious he wasn't the one they were looking at.

Quickly shifting his focus with a new train of thought, however, Peter hurriedly hobbled up to the rest of the gang, placing himself right next to James, as he told them, "That's a new song I heard over the summer! Isn't it just great?"

"I'd say it's pretty fitting," James allowed, with an approving nod of his head.

"I thought so," Peter tilted his head proudly, happy to have his clever insertion acknowledged.

However, it was obvious in the next instant that James' thoughts were far from the new muggle song when his hand shot up almost instinctively to his hair and he began tousling it a bit. Though the rest of the group couldn't see her yet, they knew where his eyes were, and who he was watching, and Sirius even rolled his eyes at his friend's ridiculous antics. Not that it really annoyed him, it was just…a little absurd.

Glancing over at his mate to cast him a single, meaningful glance, James then lowered his hand to instead push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, slowly, as he returned his gaze to the source of all this fuss.

Sirius got the message, nodded, and then ushered the other two forward, even taking James' trunk ahead for him. Who knew how long it would take _this_ time? Sometimes, he took _forever_. Unless, of course…he didn't. There were times when it took no time at all, when the object of all his pining just walked right off.

As his three companions left his side, James strutted forward a few paces, until he came to lean casually against the nearby pillar, his eyes fixed on that unmistakable head of dark, red hair, a conceited smirk overtaking his expression as she neared him.

It didn't take her long to notice him. After all, he made a point of making himself stand out, and they _were_ also both running a little late, so the station was quickly emptying at this point. And, even if _that_ hadn't been enough to draw her attention to him, the moment she was in earshot, he greeted in a deep, mature voice, "Hey, Lily."

"What? Not _Evans_?" the redhead cast him a single, scathing look, before walking past him.

"Ohh, I think we're past that," James stated, stepping away from his position against the pillar and falling into step beside her. "Don't you?"

The girl just shook her head and continued walking, deciding to try to ignore him this time.

"Oh, come on," his expression softened a little. "You can't really _deny_ it, can you? First name basis? Our _sixth_ year? I think it's definitely time, Lily. No," he quickly held up a hand, correcting himself, "it's overdue. _Way_ overdue."

Lily sighed at his persistence, momentarily allowing herself to indulge him. "Well, I disagree," she replied in a mater-of-fact tone. "A first name basis is reserved for people who are actually _friends_ , and I can't say you fit that description."

"That's just nonsense," James shook his head at the girl, with a playful smile. "What if you're enemies? What if you're family? Or, what if—what _if_ —that particular person has siblings or parents that you're acquainted with? Even cousins! That'd get awfully confusing if you addressed everybody by their surname."

"None of those apply to you either," Lily narrowed her emerald eyes ever so slightly.

Titling his head to one side to observe the classmate beside him, his smile again shifted toward a smirk as he noted, "You know, you're pretty attractive when you get all fired up."

The redhead released an exasperated sigh, as she simultaneously increased her pace, determined to put as much distance between herself and this infuriating person as possible. Besides, she didn't want to be late either, and he had a certain gift for wasting time.

"Tch, you don't gotta get all huffy and puffy over it," James effortlessly matched her speed, with the air that this was nothing more than a casual stroll. "I was just giving you a compliment."

"You can take your compliments someplace else," she snapped.

"But…I don't _want_ to take them anywhere else," the boy informed her, feigning a look of complete innocence. Not that what he was saying wasn't sincere, it was just the look that wasn't.

"You've been chasing me for _five years_ , with your _compliments_ and staged meetings," Lily brought to the absurd boy's attention.

As many times as he'd asked her out and pined after her affection, she had turned him down an equal amount. There was the occasional guilt over rejecting him, but she had stopped letting that bring her down as she watched his attitude only worsen over the years. He was as cocky as ever, and his actions from their fifth year only served to further downplay his image.

Sighing again, the girl closed her eyes a moment, clearing her thoughts, before directing her attention back to him, "Will there ever be a day where you'll just leave me alone?"

"Well…," here, James leaned over, closer to her, so that they were eye-level, "the day you _do_ agree to go out with me, I won't bother you about it anymore. So…there's _that_."

"That's what I thought," Lily responded shortly, before averting her attention away and instead focusing on the carriages they were quickly approaching.

A small frown flashed across James' expression at her dismissal, but he quickly replaced it with an easy smile, banishing the negative mood, and bringing his arm to rest around her shoulders as he asked, "Sooo, how was your summer? You get your O.W.L.s in? I bet you made straight O's on all of them, didn't you?"

She didn't respond immediately, her attention focused instead on the sudden invasion of space, and she arched a single brow at the arm slung around her. "If you must know… _yes_ , I did," she said curtly, attempting to brush his arm away, but he persistently kept it in place.

"Thought so," James cast the recipient of all his affections a playful wink. "It _is_ just like you to score _perfectly_ , in _all_ areas," he made a sweep of the hand through the air, to further illustrate his point.

Giving up on her _obviously_ futile efforts to remove him, Lily settled for releasing yet another frustrated sigh. "Well, I can see a few areas that I could improve in," she shot him a meaningful look, "such as how to ward off pests."

"Aww, but I've already told you the magic solution, haven't I?" the undeterred boy offered her a dashing smile. "You give me a chance, and I won't have to keep bothering you like this. Besides, even _you_ have to admit, it can't be _that_ bad, having someone around to tell you every day how beautiful you are, how intelligent, witty, and wonderful you can be, to praise you, ready with a compliment at every turn. I mean…why is this such an awful predicament? Plenty of girls would _kill_ to have this. Or…well, plenty of _people_ , in general."

Lily couldn't help but roll her eyes at that one. It was almost unbelievable how he managed to follow any previous absurdities with one that completely outshone the others. Deciding to forego responding to his final comment, she replied, "Because this isn't something that I want. I never asked to be praised for _every_ little thing, _every_ single day. And I'm not even going to start reacting differently to those compliments because, even after everything you've done, I refuse to take advantage of you just to make myself feel better. It's just not right."

"You'd _hardly_ be taking advantage of me when I'm so willingly offering them," James stated simply, awarding Lily a jokingly chastising look. "And aren't the very best things in life the ones we don't ask for? The ones that just fall in our laps, that we didn't even know we wanted?"

"I suppose that's _usually_ the case, but," Lily shook her head, "I just want peace. And quiet." Glancing ahead, she also added, "And I want to catch the carriages on time."

"Well, no worries, Lily," the dark-haired Gryffindor assured her with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "With _your_ pace? You'll make record time. Though," here, he released her from his hold and gave her a slightly serious look, "if you're _really_ worried, I'll happily carry your trunk for you."

"No, thank you," the girl waved his offer away, "I'm perfectly capable of carrying it on my own."

After heaving a faint sigh at her predicted response, at her _usual_ response, James shoved his hands into his pockets and pressed his eyes shut a moment. However, he quickly shrugged it off, refusing to linger on yet another rejection, and returned his eyes to rest on hers, on those deep, emerald eyes of hers, and he forced a smile.

"Fair enough," he told her simply. "You're allowed to say _no_ as many times as you like. All I need is one _yes_."

He was just never going to give up. Lily had accepted that a long time ago, but still hoped that he would. Not only for her own peace of mind, but…his, as well. As far as the conversation went, though...she didn't even have a response for him. Not this time. And, moreover, some silence sounded nice, for a change.

They walked on, and, for a time, this last wish of Lily's was granted, the two proceeding side-by-side in silence, with James occasionally kicking at a rock here and there as they trudged up the hill. However, it lasted only a short span of time, as a certain query came to settle in the boy's mind, and he narrowed his eyes slightly in thought, as he actually felt a bit of hesitance.

"By the way," he asked, "how have you been doing? You know, with the whole… _Snape_ thing? I know you two kinda had a falling out before the summer."

The calm, pleasant atmosphere that had settled between them was instantly shattered as that question was posed. _Snape_ …she had tried all summer to stay strong when it came to him, which was even more difficult when she pondered how much she actually missed that jerk. She just had to hold onto her principles and not let it get to her. She just had to get through two more years…that was a terrible thing to think and she didn't _want_ to, but she truly believed it was for the best. There was just nothing more she could do for him.

However, that subject still carried a lot of hurt feelings and anger. Not only directed at Snape, but also at the other person involved. Rounding on the smug asshole himself, Lily's eyes flared with that surfaced disdain, "Yes, we did! We had a _falling out_ that isn't any of your business, except for the part you played in causing it. I'm pulling through it and you don't do anything to help, so don't ask me about it again!"

With that, the fiery redhead spun on her heel and stormed off in the direction of the closest carriage.

James stared after her, his eyes widened, flinching at the tone she had taken with him, but now…now, he just felt how she always managed to make him feel, something she managed to achieve, that no one else ever really had: he felt completely belittled. Whenever she took that tone with him, scolded him for the things he did, reprimanded him and called him out on his behavior, he felt so small, and all his antics so petty…and _childish_. Even as he watched her, on the one hand, he, as always, felt inclined to run after her, to stay near her as much as he possibly could, but, on the other…he also felt as though he should let her go at this point. He had been bothering her enough as it was, and, well…she had actually put up with him a little more tolerably than she usually did.

Heaving a sigh, he turned his gaze away from her retreating figure, from those dark red tresses which swayed back and forth, even more violently than usual in her vehement stride, and tried to ignore the rising feeling of disappointment she always left him with. Why he did this to himself, constantly put himself in these situations, setting himself up for failure time and again…it was a wonder sometimes, even to _him_.

 _Oh, whatever_. He shrugged it off, insisting this was just like any other time, typical Lily, that he would succeed eventually, and he brought his eyes to instead search over the many carriages lined in front of him. After a brief moment, he spotted the expectant trio, standing patiently outside one of the last carriages, with their luggage already loaded, and he tried to keep his sulky mood from showing _too_ much as he made his way over to them, hands still in his pockets.

The first to notice him was, unsurprisingly, Peter.

"Look, it's James!" the boy shouted excitedly, pointing in his direction, and the other two followed his line of sight.

"She turn you down _again_ , Prongs?" Sirius mocked his friend good-naturedly. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he held his hand out as he asked, " _How_ many times is that, now?"

"Yeah, Remus!" Peter piped in. "How many? You're always good with that."

"Oh, well, let's see…," the taller boy brought a hand to his chin in thought. "If my calculations are correct, this would be number…five-thousand, eight hundred and…sixty-nine."

Sirius wolf-whistled in response. "Damn! That is _a lot_."

"Nice!" their little rat friend agreed with the bigger kids. "You always keep it up, don't you, James? _Next_ time it'll be five-thousand, eight hundred, and…um…seventy?"

"Yes, that's correct," Remus confirmed, before glancing over in James' direction with a sympathetic but encouraging smile.

"Hey!" James narrowed his eyes at them, putting on his usual, more confident expression, and trying to ignore the rising depression their words were instilling in him. "Don't get ahead of yourselves! For all we know, there won't even _be_ a next time!"

" _That's_ the spirit!" Sirius gave him a firm pat on the back, although he was definitely laughing at his friend's expense at this point.

* * *

"Can I see it again?"

The boy's dark eyes flicked from the faces of the three older students sitting in front of him, to instead come to rest longingly on the nearest left arm, as if trying to catch another glimpse beneath the fabric.

"Oh, why not?" the only female in their company gave a slight eye roll, but with a playful, teasing sort of smile, before pulling back her sleeve and again holding out her arm for the others to see. Marring the flesh of her otherwise flawless skin, in black markings, sat a gaunt, distorted skull, with jagged teeth, and from its open mouth a serpent extended in place of a tongue, wound around itself until its head readied for attack, its fangs protruding threateningly.

"Whoa," another boy muttered under his breath, a smile on his face as he felt himself getting pumped up just looking at it. "It's so cool," he told them, before his admiring, green eyes found those of his brother, Rodolphus Lestrange, who was returning the gaze with a slight smirk in place. It was a little condescending, but…endearing.

"It's _badass_!" the first boy declared, biting his lower lip with an intense nod.

The girl awarded him a little wink, finishing it off with a coy shrug, before her dark eyes came to rest on those of her little cousin, who was somewhat less animated than the other two, younger boys. "What's the matter, Reggie-kins?" she asked, taking on a baby voice with him. Leaning forward from her seat on the couch across from him, she then ruffled his black hair, "You not excited?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes at that nickname, before exhaling a somewhat annoyed sigh. "Of _course_ I'm excited, Bellatrix," he insisted, meeting the young woman's gaze. "I'm just feeling it all on the inside."

The composed figure seated at the far end of the couch, nearest the fireplace, released a slight scoff at this weak explanation. "Is that so?" he drawled, his voice like velvet. "Because, from what I can see, your face tells a very different story."

Before Regulus could even have a chance to protest, Bellatrix quickly inserted, "Lucy-cakes is right, you know. You look…positively… _miffed_."

"There's just…a lot on my mind right now," he told them, avoiding their gazes and instead keeping his stare locked on the roaring flames within the hearth.

"'Cause of your worthless brother?" Rabastan asked, with a knowing smile and narrowing his eyes mockingly at his housemate.

Turning his head slowly to face the boy seated beside him, the young Black narrowed his eyes in a glare, but said nothing.

"Ugh!" Bellatrix rolled her eyes at the mere mention of that unfortunate family connection, having heard all about the way he had childishly stormed out of the house mid-argument with his parents over the summer and never come back. His mother had been in a fit of hysteria—well…more like mania, to be honest. And _she_ had set Bellatrix's mother off, and the whole house had been in such an uproar for weeks. Such a drag… Things had finally settled down a little around the place when she had gotten her Dark Mark, a whole _new_ topic of discussion to fill their time, and it was honestly one she found considerably more preferable.

"Can we _not_ talk about him?" she insisted. " _Please_? I've had to hear about it all summer, and I am _so_ not looking for a recap."

"You're right. We should stop talking about this," Rodolphus conceded calmly, as he leaned forward and tenderly stroked the small of her back. "Now, calm down, darling."

"Fine, fine," the Black woman gave in, falling back to her seat on the couch beside him and leaning begrudgingly against her man.

Regulus released a small sigh of relief, grateful that they had dropped that particularly sensitive topic before it had escalated. Now that summer was over, he was free to get out of that house and find a reprieve during the months at school. His mother was in an impossibly fouler mood, _all the time_ , and his father didn't do much to help. Things were worse than they'd ever been at home and it was all Sirius' fault. He just left the family, left _him_ alone, with mother's temper and a brother to miss. And there wasn't anything he could do about it except play the role of the dutiful, _perfect_ son and make up for all the shame he'd brought.

"So," the first boy began again, his dark eyes completely unaffected by the drama that had arisen between the Black family members, and his eyes darting again between his three older housemates. "Can I see it again?"

"Alright, Bartemius, I think that's enough," Lucius brought his silver eyes to rest on him, a slight admonishing look in place. This had to have been the fourth time he had asked, by now, and it was starting to get a bit…ridiculous.

"Aw, man!" Barty exclaimed dejectedly, pounding his fist against the arm of the couch.

"It's alright, Barty," Bellatrix chimed in, cooing his name. "You'll get one all of your own soon enough."

The younger Slytherin's eyes lit up with all the possibilities, when he lowered them to his left arm, which he clutched in his other hand, and pulled back the sleeve of his brown leather jacket. "One day…," he breathed, stroking the bare skin of his forearm.

"Are you talking about those marks? _Again_?" an airy voice fluttered over to the small crowd, as a petite girl with shimmering blonde hair stepped through the passageway into the Common Room, her loose curls bouncing as she walked. Circling around the couch behind the older students, she then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the man with those stunning silver eyes. She then bent her head to give him a soft peck on his fair cheek. "Hey, you."

"Hello, Cissy," he returned, his smirk softening to more of a smile as he rested his eyes on the lady who had entwined herself around him.

Narcissa sent him a flirtatious wink, before bringing her sapphire gaze to take in the collective. " _I_ have already heard _all_ about it," she informed them proudly. "In fact, I was one of the _first_ to know. You know…since I'm Trixy's sister, _and_ Lucius' girlfriend."

"Yes, you are," Lucius assured her, a fond look overtaking his countenance at her rather childish antics, so pleased with herself for being _in-the-know_. Funny little thing.

"Shut-up, we all know that," Rabastan rolled his eyes at her. " _I_ knew too! _My_ brother," here, he pointed emphatically at the older boy who now had his arm wrapped around Bellatrix's waist, "got one, too! _Remember_?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter who knew first," the older Black sister waved this away with a nonchalant gesture of her hand. "The point is, you all know now."

"Wait!" Barty's eyes snapped up from his arm then. "Does that mean I knew _last_?"

"Yeah," Rabastan turned to him with an impish smile. "Yeah, it does."

"That's not fair!" the other boy exclaimed, always feeling so out of the loop. It was so hard for him to even find time to get an audience with the Dark Lord, what with his _dad_ being part of the Ministry and so damn nosy. And even if he could, he would still have to wait to get the Dark Mark, because his dad would be checking his arm every minute. He wished he could just get off his case for once.

Turning his attention swiftly to Bellatrix then, he criticized, "You could've sent me an owl or something!"

"Well, I assumed Lucius would have said something to you," the woman gave an indifferent shrug of her shoulders.

Barty arched a single brow at that before slowly turning his accusing eyes to the man in question.

"Come now, Bartemius," Lucius gave him an easy smirk, with a slight tilt of his head, "surely, it meant so much more, actually being able to see it for yourself. Instead, you would have had to wait _all_ summer to even catch a _glimpse_ of it, and yet, this way, that need was instantly sated. A far better arrangement, if I do say so myself."

The younger boy's expression gradually lessened in intensity as he considered what Lucius had said. It's true, he _would've_ had to wait. He wasn't in their company as much during the summer, so he would've known and it would've been nagging at him. He couldn't contain that kind of excitement.

Despite his musings, Barty's eyes maintained their suspicious glint as he asked, "And you're not just saying that because you _forgot_?"

"Of course not," the Malfoy assured him, waving such an accusation off as if it were the silliest of misgivings. "I gave it extensive thought."

" _Right_ ," the unconvinced Slytherin's eyes never left the smirking face of Lucius Malfoy as he slowly turned his head away.

"Well, anyway," the younger Lestrange chimed in again, sporting the same impish smile as before, and clearly not catching onto the obviously heavy sarcasm lacing Lucius' words, "whatever the reason was, I still knew _before_ you. And…I _saw_ it before you."

"Yeah, we _got_ that!" Bellatrix gave an annoyed eye roll at her fiancé's kid brother. "Thanks, Stan."

"You're welcome," he returned, with a mischievous grin, knowing he was getting on their nerves with this insistence. Just like he wanted.

At this last comeback, a certain dark figure in the corner rose to his feet, fed up with the noise, with the obnoxiously circular motion of their conversation, and, ultimately, with the lot of them. He snapped his book shut, containing the irritable huff that threatened in his throat, and merely swept past them, headed toward the dorms. Why he had thought for even a moment he would be able to get some peace and quiet in their presence was beyond him. He should have learned his lesson years ago, by now, and just headed straight for his room when he got here.

Now, this dark presence did not go unnoticed by the group settled around the fireplace, and they all turned to award him equally similar, questioning looks.

"Why so glum, Sevvy?" Bellatrix called after him, again adopting that baby tone she had taken with her cousin.

However, he made no response, brushing off her words altogether and utterly unaffected by the address.

"Severus," Lucius spoke then, his voice flowing out in its usual calm drawl, and he managed to actually make the black-clad boy halt a moment in his steps. "You _are_ welcome to join us."

Narrowing his onyx eyes into a glare at this statement, Severus again said nothing, but proceeded forward out of the Common Room, his black robes billowing behind him, and leaving the others staring after him. Not that this was atypical behavior from their reclusive friend, he actually tended to prefer the isolation to their company, and so they let him stalk away.

Barty then turned to the others, shaking his head, "That guy…"

"He's retarded," Rabastan inserted with a brief eye roll.

Rodolphus awarded his younger brother a mildly chastising look, however, "That's a bit much, Stan."

" _Is_ it?" Bellatrix gave a slight head tilt, though she wore a joking smile, and she gazed up at her betrothed underneath her long, dark lashes. "I think it's pretty spot on. Well…," she allowed a faint shrug, " _sometimes_. About _some_ things."

"No," Narcissa disagreed, with a slight pout of her lips, "he's not retarded, at all. I think it's kind of sad, how he doesn't know how to be part of a group."

"Eh," Regulus gave a slight shrug, his eyes still trained on the fire, "Snape will be Snape."

Lucius only gave a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth at that, a ghost of a smirk returning, but his silver stare was still concentrated in the direction the morose sixth year had escaped. It was sometimes hard to tell exactly where that troubled boy's mind wandered off to, but it did always center around one particular topic, and there wasn't a doubt in his own mind that that's precisely where it was headed this time. Just as there was no doubt in his mind that the predictable person was headed toward his dorm, to revel in the dark isolation.

And, just as the Malfoy heir predicted, the young Slytherin swept into his bedroom, letting the door slam shut behind him and then crossing the vicinity to his bed, in the far corner of the room, where he slumped over into a sitting position on the edge and allowed his dark eyes to wander to the window just beside him. Not that sunlight ever streamed through it, it was only the Black Lake, the dark, green glow and reflections from the water casting patterns on the stone walls, the occasional merperson swimming past, briefly disrupting the arrangement. It was just as well, though. It was all too fitting for this place, for these dark caves home to the snakes of the castle. The light of day could never find them, never touch them, when they retreated into themselves, when they took up the company of their own.

Those eyes of his, those endless, black eyes, were still narrowed, still glaring, as his mind still teetered over the last words Lucius had spoken to him.

Of course he was welcome to join them. That's exactly what they all wanted. It's what they had all wanted, as long as he had known them, and it's exactly where they had been dragging him all these years, further and further into the darkness with all the rest of them, and further and further away from the briefest glimmers of light that had shown in his miserable life until now. Until 88 days ago, on that dreaded Thursday in the first week of June, to be exact, when the infection had been complete, and they had snuffed out the last gleam of hope that he had been holding onto.

When _he_ had snuffed it out, to be perfectly accurate…

His eyes narrowed impossibly more, and he was filled with such an overwhelming self-loathing. It had all gone exactly as she had predicted, exactly as she had always warned him it would. He had fallen, fallen to the allure of the Dark Arts, to the tempting promises the Dark Lord had made to them, for the future of the wizarding world, and he had effectively turned on the one friend who had stayed by his side through the worst of times, pushing her away for good. There was no taking back what he had said, what he had done, it was unforgivable, not unlike those sickeningly sweet curses he had been so captivated by, turning to them instead of her, embracing the darkness in his heart rather than the light she had so graciously offered him.

He had never deserved it. Never deserved what she was offering, and yet, he had greedily wanted it. Desired it. But even _she_ could not save him. Even she, beautiful, sweet, perfect Lily Evans, she acknowledged this as fact and turned her back on him when she realized that there was no point, that he was determined to fall, to save herself while she still could.

It was probably for the best. Nevermore would he have to endure all those jabs his housemates would make at his expense, the mockeries they would cast his way when they mentioned her, when they jokingly, spitefully uttered the word _Mudblood_ , a name they could utter with no fear of repercussions. They were confident in their stance, in their cause, and he had to solidify himself to fall in their footsteps, to fall in line behind them all, to step up to the future he had already set for himself. The Dark Mark that was now branded on each of the upperclassmen's forearms…it was the mark he, too, would come to carry for the rest of his life.

Yes…

This was where he belonged…


	2. Generous Offers

**A/N:** **Sorry it's taken so long to update this story. There were a lot of technical difficulties and lack of inspiration that kept it from progressing for a while there. But, we're happy to announce, it's finally here! The next update will be coming to you shortly, so keep an eye out for it!**

 **Also, here's a special shout-out to** **sweetboi1016** **for the Amortentia recipe used in this chapter! Thanks so much, it was a great help!**

* * *

The Flame That Guides Us Home

Chapter II

"Generous Offers"

…

" _How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?"_

 _~ Dr. Seuss_

…

A slight crackling drew silver eyes to the window on the far side of the room, which was frosted over from the snowfall of the night before. The snow itself was never visible, not from the dungeons, but the lake had more or less frozen over. Just in time for the Winter Holidays, too. It would serve as yet another distraction to the students as they began studying for their first term examinations, and if the past few years were any indication, they would take any opportunity they could to procrastinate. As much as possible, for as long as possible. It was a shame, to be sure, but, seeing as it didn't actually affect this student in particular, he felt no inclination to fret over it too much. If their scores were low because of it, they had no one to blame but themselves and their own lack of self-control.

With a single arch of his brow, he drew his attention away from the window, from the outside world, and back to the book that he held open in his hand. He resituated his position on the comfortable black armchair, propping up his elbow and then allowing his chin to rest casually against his free hand. An easy smirk came to rest on the corner of his mouth, at the mere thought of the large, empty Common Room he had to himself this afternoon. As it was, he had taken it upon himself to leave the Great Hall a bit early from lunch today, just to have a chance to get some time to himself. Not for studying, or anything necessary like that, though. No, it was merely for his own leisure.

The smirk shifted, however, toward a calm smile, the longer he sat by himself. The room was filled with nothing but the pleasing sound of the fireplace he had taken to sitting beside, the crackling of the logs as they burned within the hearth, and, every now and again, the same, soft screeching sounds emitted from the frozen windows. It was a rare luxury, indeed, for the room to be this quiet during the day, and the young Malfoy couldn't deny he appreciated it significantly more than usual.

All at once, the silence was irrevocably shattered when the door to the Common Room was thrust open and a fuming Barty stalked through it. He dropped his schoolbag carelessly on the floor, a few items rolling out of it, and flung himself onto the adjoining sofa. He shook his head angrily, mumbling to himself a moment, before turning his attention to the calm Malfoy heir.

"I pretty much hate my life right now."

"Oh?" Lucius returned, a single eyebrow shooting up once more, but his posture remained otherwise unchanged. These abrupt intrusions were not all that uncommon, especially from Barty.

"Yeah," the younger Slytherin stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It _sucks_. And you wanna know why?"

Before his friend even had a chance to answer, the boy rolled off the couch onto the floor and proceeded to rummage through the previously discarded bag. This time, it was enough to draw Lucius' eyes away from his book, and he glanced over the rim to watch as Barty began tossing papers unceremoniously over his head, some falling onto the floor, some on the couch. He even managed to crush a few with the books he was pulling out. The Malfoy only gave a subtle shake of his head at the display, but he let him carry on with the behavior nonetheless. He had long since given up on trying to do otherwise. Barty was far too willful for his own good, at times.

"Aha!"

After several moments of digging, the intense individual lifted up an envelope, nodding triumphantly at himself. His expression shifted, however, as he stared at the paper and his sour mood returned. He removed himself from the ground and walked toward Lucius, holding the item of interest out to him.

"Get a load of this!"

An idea already in mind who the dispatcher of the letter must be, the blond accepted the envelope from him as he lowered his book to lie face down on the arm of his chair. Whatever that man had written this time, it had clearly been enough to put Barty in quite a mood, and, however ridiculous he may act about it, Lucius was well aware how seriously this particular subject actually affected him. Therefore, with an attentive eye, he proceeded to unfold the letter and read the few brief sentences penned by Bartemius Crouch, Sr.:

 _Son,_

 _I regret to inform you that your mother has fallen ill again. The doctors tell me she will need to stay at St. Mungo's until after Christmas. Winky will be assisting her there, and my job at the Ministry will call me away often. I have decided that you will be staying at school this holiday. I believe it will be for the best. With fewer distractions, you will have more time to get your work done and ample studying, so you can get your grades up. The O.W.L.s are only a few months away, now, and it's imperative that you do well on them._

 _Make me proud,_

 _Your father_

The Malfoy could already feel a slight scowl forming in reaction to the letter's contents. It was clear there were several underhanded comments woven throughout, but the overall formal language the man had taken with his own son as he sent such devastating news made it all the more difficult to read. And, on top of everything else, Lucius was well aware how much it bothered his friend, whenever his mother was sick. She was a frail person by nature, and she had been in and out of St. Mungo's for as long as he had known him, but, with each visit, it seemed to wear on Barty even more. As he lowered the letter, Lucius once again fixed his gaze on the disgruntled boy in front of him, and he offered him a fleeting, apologetic smile at the side of his mouth.

"I am sorry, Bartemius," he told him, his tone calm as always, though with an underlying sincerity.

Barty hung his head, nodding in gratitude at his friend's condolences, but he rolled his eyes as he glanced at the letter once more.

"It's just like him to do this, you know?" he scowled. "Get me out of the house, _stuck_ here, while I'm worried about my mom. He's barely gonna send me updates about her condition, and when she's _finally_ better, I'll hear about it in an owl, like, a _month_ later." Here, Barty retrieved the letter from the older Slytherin and stuffed it back in his bag, before throwing himself on the couch dejectedly. "And did you read that crap about my grades? Magic isn't about studying. I don't care about my grades, and he doesn't either. He only wants them better so _he_ looks good. It's all about _him_ again."

"He's a typical narcissist," Lucius assented, with a slight nod of his head. "If it's any consolation, I have one just like it at home."

Barty couldn't help but chuckle at that, "Yeah, your mom's pretty bad. She _might_ even be worse."

" _Might_ ," the Malfoy allowed, with a returning smirk. "It's a tough call. Speaking of which," here, his eyes wandered briefly to the ceiling in thought, before he brought them to rest on Barty once more, "if you want, you're more than welcome to spend the holidays at _my_ house. I'm sure my parents won't mind."

"Ah!" the young man exclaimed, as his hands flew into the air with excitement. "Are you for real?! That would be _great_! Man…," Barty shook his head, a joking yet sincere smile crossing his face, "you're the best. I _love_ you."

The smirk deepened, and Lucius replied only, "I know."

Barty nodded in understanding, a smirk of his own in place. His mind wandered, then, and an image of that beautiful object of his affections replaced all previous thoughts.

"Dude," he began, his tone entranced, as if captured in a dreamlike state, "you know who _else_ is pretty great? Bellatrix. She's just awesome!"

The entirely unamused expression had only a second to cross Lucius' face, before the grandfather clock against the far wall began chiming, interrupting their discussion altogether. Taking the opportunity to _not_ entertain this new topic, which he knew would go absolutely nowhere, the older Slytherin rose to his feet and took care to mark his page in the book he had been reading, before snapping it shut. He then stowed it in the leather satchel he had set on the end table earlier that afternoon, and lifted the strap over his shoulder, before letting it fall to a comfortable rest at his side.

"Come on, then, Bartemius," he urged him, gesturing to the scattered contents of the boy's own schoolbag. "We can't have you arriving late to class."

Glancing down at his stuff, Barty rolled his eyes, but stooped to pick up his bag and shoved everything inside. Returning the strap to his shoulder, he pumped his fist and gestured to the door, "After you, my good man."

"How thoughtful," Lucius drawled, as the usual smirk returned to his countenance, and he then proceeded to lead the way out of the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

"Gather 'round, gather 'round!" the jovial, booming voice echoed off the stone walls.

The small cluster of Sixth Years stepped toward the front of the class, forming a makeshift semi-circle around Professor Slughorn's desk, some returning his wide grin with a smile of their own. He clapped his hands together, obviously giddy with excitement over _something_ , and wasted no time in making his announcement.

"Well, everyone, I'm _very_ excited to say that Headmaster Dumbledore has once again allowed me to host my annual Slug Club Christmas Party!"

When he sent a pointed smile at his favorites, clearly expecting feedback, the redhead standing near him offered him a gracious smile.

"That's wonderful, professor," she told him, feeling a genuine happiness for the man. He always loved his parties. In fact, they were probably his favorite events of the year.

"Isn't it, Miss Evans?" he returned eagerly. "You should know, you're at the top of my list of invites this year. And you, as well, Severus," he pointed a stubby finger toward the dark individual standing in the corner. "You're one of my star pupils, too, of course. And Miss Dolohov, you and Mr. Lupin are welcome to come, as well. I look forward to seeing you all there."

Though Severus' expression maintained its typical apathy, Remus and Natalia Dolohov both offered their professor polite smiles. It was all the answer he required.

"Oh! Good gracious, I almost forgot!" Slughorn added quickly, his smile turning somewhat conspiratorial. "As a special treat, you're each welcome to bring a date along with you. Since they'll be your plus one, you're perfectly welcome to bring anyone who isn't a member. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. I have no doubt each of you has a special someone in your lives. For some of you, maybe even _more_ than one."

He laughed at his own joke, taking a moment to enjoy it, before clapping his hands together once more as he shifted gears.

"But!" he began, "enough about that! We have potions to brew! I've taken the liberty of setting up all of your cauldrons from yesterday on my desk. We'll be continuing the _Amortentia_ potion. _Very_ dangerous. Please grab your potions, take them back to your desks, and you can begin!"

When he turned to walk back to his desk, he halted immediately in his steps and took a moment to survey the class once more. "Oh, but where's the young Mr. Black today? And Miss Benson?"

"Alice is on a fieldtrip," Frank Longbottom immediately piped in, on behalf of his girlfriend.

" _Ooh_ , a fieldtrip?" the bespectacled individual beside him asked, with an offhanded curiosity. "What kind of fieldtrip would that be? I didn't know we actually did too many of those here."

"Well, Ancient Runes is different," Frank began to explain. "The professor thinks it's actually more informative for the students to experience places where the runes were actually used. For example, Greece has many ancient sites, and I believe that's where they went this time."

"Huh," James mused, giving his head a slight tilt as he considered this. "A day off from school, _and_ an excuse to visit Greece, to boot. If I had known Ancient Runes had so much to offer, I would've taken it _years_ ago!"

"I see," Slughorn said thoughtfully, lifting a hand to his chin as he pondered over this new piece of information. "I'm sure he gave me a note regarding this. I must have simply misplaced it. But," here, he lifted his head, to look pointedly at James, "that doesn't explain Mr. Black. As I understand it, he isn't in Ancient Runes, is he?"

"Pff!" the Marauder gave his professor a jokingly incredulous look. "Of course not, professor! He's not in any class _I'm_ not in. He's just sick. You can check in with Madam Pomfrey, if you like, she can vouch for him."

"What's he sick with?" Frank inquired, a mild curiosity lighting up his eyes.

"Tch, stomach bug," the Gryffindor informed his Ravenclaw compatriot with a slight shake of his head, his face contorting with a dramatized sympathy on his friend's behalf. "He was puking his guts out in the bathroom this morning."

"It's true," Remus inserted from beside James, his fingers already leafing through his textbook for today's recipe.

"Oh, that sounds awful," Lily remarked. "I hope that was the worst of it, though."

At the mere sound of her voice, James' eyes instantly shot to her—his entire focus did, for that matter—and he gave her an easy, confident smile. "Don't worry too much, Lily," he assured her, taking the opportunity to sling a hand over her shoulders. "I'm sure he'll be back to his usual, charming self in _no_ time. Sweet of you to care, though," he added, with a wink.

The redhead rolled her eyes at his usual antics, but things had smoothed out a bit between them since that first day back several months ago. These flirting moments of his had started to leave a gradual amusing effect on her. They didn't irritate her nearly as much as they used to. Of course, they were still annoying, but at least she wasn't constantly angry at him.

"Of _course_ I care," Lily returned, brushing his hand off her shoulder. "As obnoxious as your little group can be sometimes, Sirius is still my friend, and I care about all my friends."

James awarded her a mildly surprised look at this statement, and he had to take a moment to regard the girl in front of him, to gauge her level of sincerity. "You think of Sirius as a friend?"

"Yes, I do," she responded shortly, turning her attention back to the front of the classroom, and their professor, who was watching their interaction with barely subdued enjoyment. Lily released a sigh and managed to put a small smile on her face. "When can we work on our potions, sir?"

"Oh, right this moment, of course!" Slughorn told her happily. "Always so eager, Miss Evans," he wagged a finger at her, with a fond look in his eyes.

"Awesome," James said easily, grabbing his cauldron in one hand and then again bringing his other to rest around the redhead's shoulders. "Say, Lily, seeing as our mutual friend is out sick today, you wanna be my potions' partner?" he made sure to cast her a dashing grin as he asked.

Lily pursed her lips in response to his suggestion, inching her face away from him. It was bad enough when he tried to distract her with Sirius at his side, but letting him be her actual _partner_ would just be inviting that distraction. This was a very difficult potion, and she wanted to get it perfect. Slughorn was always praising her, and she didn't want to disappoint him.

"I don't think so, Potter," she said, though somewhat sympathetically.

Retrieving her own cauldron from Slughorn's desk, a slight sadness washed over her as she noticed Severus already hard at work on his potion, in the far corner of the room. Every previous year, they had always been partners in potions. Every year…except this year. Now, Remus was the person she chose as her partner. It was so easy to get along with him, at least. He was such a kind individual.

Smiling at him, Lily gestured to an open table, "Are you ready, Remus?"

' _Oh, no,'_ Remus thought to himself, his eyes immediately falling on James, and the dejection his friend could never seem to hide whenever Lily turned him down.

This attempt had ended the same way as each and every other one had: in failure. Despite the boy's flippant attitude, Remus knew it must get to him, constantly being shot down like that, and, while he was remiss to play any hand in it, he also didn't want to put Lily in a difficult position. She had already turned James down before she had turned the request on him, after all. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad. At the very least, she had seemed a little kinder in her rejection than usual. This was definite progress. If James seemed like he was still upset about it by the end of class, he would be sure to point this out to him.

And so, aiming an apologetic smile toward his friend, he took his cauldron from Professor Slughorn's desk and then followed Lily to their work station.

James stared after the two of them, chewing on the side of his lip as he tapped his index finger against the side of his cauldron in slight irritation. That _girl_ … She really played dirty, sometimes. As if he could really keep pestering her when Remus was giving him a look like _that!_ That just wasn't any fair at _all_.

And since _when_ had she decided Sirius was her friend, too? Sure, it'd been obvious she was buddies with Remus for _years_ , now, but just like that, she'd gone and added another of the gang to her list. Next thing he knew, she was going to be saying that _Peter_ was her friend, too. Not that he was against her getting along with all of them—or, even being friends with them, actually. In fact, the closer she felt to them, the better, as far as he saw it. However, it _was_ starting to get a little disheartening, when she started to view all of them in a very open, friendly way, and yet, still insisted on brushing him aside like this.

' _Right,'_ he gave his head a slight shake, giving one final tap to the side of this pot, as he pulled himself out of his less than cheerful mood. He still needed a partner.

"Would you like _me_ to be your partner?" Frank chimed in then, throwing James a good-natured smile. "Seeing as we both happen to be missing our _other_ halves today."

At this suggestion, an easy smirk overtook James' expression, and he turned his gaze on the man with an approving glint in his eyes. "You know…," he clicked his tongue once, before giving Frank a firm clap on the back, "we're going to have a lot of fun today, you and I."

The Ravenclaw nodded in satisfaction, "Sounds good to me."

He then grabbed his own concoction from the desk and led the way to a table in the back. This was the table he usually occupied with Alice, after all. He missed her, but he sincerely hoped she was having a good time on her trip, and he had no doubts she would tell him everything about it when she returned. He was looking forward to that. In the meantime, though, he supposed James was right. They were going to have fun.

"Um…tch, yeah," James only took a few steps until he realized where his new partner was headed. He narrowed his eyes, a mix between disapproval and reluctance, before rushing after him and linking his free arm with Frank's. "Here's the thing, man. I dunno 'bout that seat you have picked out there. I mean," he gave a slight shrug, "sure, it's quaint and all, but, see…I kinda had my heart set on that one over _there_."

He gestured toward the front of the class, where Remus and Lily were already getting to work. It was common knowledge that he and Sirius always occupied the desk right beside theirs, and today, it was _especially_ important that he claim it. There was a matter of the utmost importance which he simply _had_ to discuss with the lovely Miss Evans, and it was imperative he do it before anyone else got the chance.

Frank simply followed his line of sight and was struck by instant recognition. "I see," he nodded in understanding, before veering instead in the designated direction. "We can sit over there."

"Thanks, man," James awarded him a genuine smile.

He waltzed down the aisle beside his new partner and then slid into his usual seat, setting the cauldron on the table in front of him. He slung his bag with all the ingredients onto the table beside it, before turning a smoldering stare on the girl to his right, whose nose was already buried deep in her Potion's book.

"Hey, Lily," he said only.

By the time the red-haired Gryffindor heard the familiar voice beside her, she was already in the midst of the potion's meticulous steps. She responded to him with a simple nod, before returning her full attention to the next step. At the dismissive response she afforded him, James then glanced behind her, to find that Remus was already staring right back at him. A smirk overtook the dark-haired boy's expression, then, and he cast his friend a playful wink.

"Remus."

"James," he returned somewhat warily, with a chastising smile and a shake of his head.

"Sooo…," entirely undeterred by the look his mate was giving him, James decided to waste no time in getting to his point, "about that Christmas Party, Lily…"

Lily's head shot up at that. She knew he was going to ask her at some point, he looked for every opportunity to ask her out, but she wasn't expecting him to ask so soon. She took a moment to compose herself, decided to allow the momentary distraction, and let her emerald eyes fall on him.

"Look, Potter…," she began slowly, "it's just a party. It's not a big deal, but I'm not taking you. I've rejected every date offer you've thrown at me. Why would this one be any different?"

"Well, I didn't really think you'd say yes on the first try," her constant pursuer gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, as he leaned forward on his desk so his face was closer to hers. "But, you get invited to those Slug Club parties every time, right? I've always been pretty curious what the inside of one is actually like. I'll tell you what," here, he threw a hand up in the air, as he made a quick, sweeping motion, "we can just call it my Christmas present this year. How's that sound? This way, you won't have to stress out about what to get me."

When James made this declaration, Remus glanced over at his friend, his brow furrowed slightly. Had Lily ever actually gotten him a Christmas present before?

Lily closed her eyes. He never knew when to quit, did he? There was a limit to how many times she could turn him down without feeling terrible, but maybe there was a loophole this time to get him to stop asking. She just hoped he wouldn't take it to mean too much. Maybe she sort of owed this to him, anyway. Rejection after rejection, and she never gave him anything else. Not that she planned to. She could barely stand him somedays, but he wasn't so bad when he wasn't being demanding.

"Well…," she returned her gaze to the ridiculous boy and offered him a slight smile, "what if I got you an actual present instead? I've known you for six years, I'm sure I could come up with something."

' _That sounds promising,'_ Remus mused internally, a secret smile forming. _'This is more progress than even_ I _had thought. Maybe he_ will _get her in the end, after all.'_

James, however, fell completely silent at this alternative, his expression blanking, turning neutral, as he once again found himself considering her. She really _did_ play dirty, didn't she? While it was true, he would much rather go to that party with her, he couldn't very well deny what a tempting offer this actually was. As long as he had known her, over the many years he had been pursuing her, she had never once given him anything. He had been forced to take what he could get, admittedly bordering on the creepy side of things from time to time, such as that note he had watched her throw in the dust bin, which he had later retrieved. It was just scratch paper, she had been doodling, experimenting with different ways of signing her name, but he had held onto it, just as he had done with several other things she had discarded or lost. In fact, he still had them, tucked safely away in a box of collectibles he kept in his trunk.

God…even _he_ was surprised, sometimes, with how obsessed he was.

With this thought fresh in his mind, he gave a slight tilt of his head as he asked, "You'd…actually get me something, huh?" He was unable to keep the somewhat skeptical edge from his tone.

"Only if you agree to stop asking me to the party," Lily stated firmly. Maybe she wouldn't mind getting him something, after all. It might even be fun to put a surprised expression on _his_ face for once.

"Tch…that's tempting," James gave a slow, dramatic shake of his head. " _Very_ tempting…"

"Yes, it is," Remus quickly interjected, feeling a rising concern on the relentless boy's behalf, and he attempted to shoot him a warning glance, but James wasn't looking at him. "It's incredibly generous, in fact. Lily always gives wonderful presents."

"Thank you, Remus," Lily directed a smile at him.

"Oh, you're welcome," he told her, with a small, returning smile of his own.

"Still…," James clicked his tongue once, "I just gotta say, the thought of going to that party with you sounds even _more_ tempting, Lils. I think we could have _a lot_ of fun with that."

Lily cast him a look of utter disbelief. Remus did a silent face palm beside her. He was absolutely hopeless.

A bubbling noise just beside James immediately drew everyone's attention, though. When their eyes fell on the source of the disturbance, Frank merely offered a proud smile as he gestured to his cauldron, which was coming along quite nicely. He would receive top marks, for sure.

Remus' eyes widened as he realized he had been neglecting his potion throughout the course of their entire interaction with his troublesome housemate, and he quickly returned to his own brew, to check the coloring and temperature. After looking over Lily's, as well, he released a sigh of relief, pleased to find it hadn't been ruined. James had chosen a rather convenient time to bother them.

As everyone returned their full attention to their potions, James turned his focus on his own, for the first time since he'd been in class. As it happened, he had yet to even begin the first step, after allowing it to simmer for the designated 24 hours. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he narrowed his eyes at the concoction, before glancing over at the next line in his notebook: _At the 24 hour mark stir, the cauldron in a clockwise direction six times. Let stand for one minute…blah, blah blah_. Potions were always so damn technical. Still, this was one of the ones that had actually seemed like it'd be mildly interesting this time around. I mean…a love potion? Did it even get anymore classic than _that_? Even the array of ingredients was interesting, different from their usual assortment. Instead of slug parts or eye of newt, it included cherry blossom petals, pomegranates, and even a pearl—just to name a few.

He briefly wondered how much he'd managed to ruin his potion by all the time he'd spent not working on it. The vain attempt to ask her out hadn't gotten him anywhere in the end, anyway. Instead of practicing some actual self-control here, and putting his foot in his damn mouth for once, he just _had_ to press the issue, and _now_? Well, now, he wouldn't be getting _anything_ , would he? Not a Christmas present from Lily, and _certainly_ not a date with her. Did he really think asking again would encourage her to say yes?

Not to mention, it looked like he'd turned out to be a pretty awful partner, and, unlike Sirius, Frank actually devoted a lot of time and effort into this class.

Glancing over at the guy, then, James awarded him a side smile, as he made a lazy gesture toward his cauldron. "Potion's looking pretty good, Frank."

"Why, thank you," the Ravenclaw nodded appreciatively, "I've been working hard." Gesturing to James' potion, then, he added, "Your potion should be fine, by the way. It's only been a few minutes, and you'll have enough time to finish it before class is over."

"You think so?" James could feel his smile brightening a little at his encouragement, and he even managed a faint chuckle. "Well, that's good news. Thought I might have ruined it. They can be such fickle things, you know?"

Frank chuckled at that, "Yes, I know. You have to be so exact with them. But, yours is alright because you haven't actually touched it yet. You're technically still within the 24-hour limit."

"Yeah," James gave a conceding nod, "that makes sense." Flashing a conceited grin, then, he added, "Who would've thought it actually _pays_ to be lazy?"

A pair of cold, dark eyes narrowed into a glare as this bold declaration left the Gryffindor's mouth. The sheer level of arrogance buried within such a statement was absolutely astounding. The longer they were all forced to listen to him, sitting up there at the front of class, yammering away and making a perfect spectacle of himself, as always, the more it made the very blood in his veins begin to boil. Why couldn't he have just done them all a favor and failed that damn O.W.L. altogether? Him and Black, both, for that matter. It would have at least displaced the pair from _one_ class this year. One glorious, peaceful reprieve…

Even without his asinine partner-in-crime around to bounce the usual jokes and harebrained ideas off of, he somehow managed to maintain a level of annoyance that was just as bad, if not even _higher_ than usual. As the same, assessing black eyes witnessed the fool's interactions with Lily, at his pigheaded persistence, at his flat-out rejection of her offer—an offer which, he might add, was _far_ more generous than he _ever_ deserved—he could feel a sick knot twisting in his stomach, so much so that it was almost enough to distract him from his potion altogether.

 _Almost_.

The great James Potter may be capable of many things, but if there was one singular thing he would _never_ be able to achieve, it was causing Severus Snape to concoct a potion that was anything short of perfect. Even without the same potion's partner he had grown accustomed to for the past five years, now, even with a replacement as unimaginative and borderline useless as Yaxley, and even with the curse of a distraction as all-consuming and recurrent as the Marauders, he still maintained top mark's on every last brew he turned in. Today was no different.

He was determined to ignore the boisterous voice at the front, the inane blabbering, and even the ferocious beast, who only a few rows of desks separated him from. There the monster was, scribbling away in his notebook, stirring his potion, trying to pass himself off as an ordinary student, and the headmaster was _allowing_ it. It was enough to contort his stomach with an entirely new revulsion.

But, he would ignore it. He would ignore _both_ of them. Them, and the head of dark red hair that fell in wisps all around her, as she bent over her cauldron. The emerald eyes he couldn't see, the meticulous work he knew her perfect, delicate hands were putting into every last step of the recipe… He was utterly determined to ignore her, most of all.

Her, and the stupid party he wouldn't be able to waste time with her at, this year.


	3. Party Planners

**A/N:** **Thanks for sticking with us! Reviews are always welcome and much appreciated! Happy reading!**

* * *

The Flame That Guides Us Home

Chapter III

"Party Planners"

…

" _Once you have been confronted with a life-and-death situation, trivia no longer matters. Your perspective grows and you live at a deeper level. There's no time for pettiness."_

 _~ Margaretta Rockefeller_

…

He wasn't sure which was worse. The alternative that had been playing out in his head throughout the entirety of their Potion's lesson, that something Potter said might actually possess her to agree to take him to the party with her, or… _this_. This horrible, disgusting reality that he had the great displeasure of overhearing not two minutes after their class had been dismissed. She had even been the one to make the offer, suggesting it with a smile. Of course, she wouldn't have been attending alone. That was _never_ a possibility, not for the beauty that was Lily Evans.

But, _him_? She had chosen to go with _him_? That…that bloodthirsty _monstrosity_?

And, worst of all, she didn't even know it. She didn't know what he was. He would never tell her, of course, as he was rightfully ashamed of his very nature, but even Severus could not tell her the truth. He couldn't even offer the slightest forewarning, and not because they had fallen out of speaking terms ever since that most regrettable incident, but because the headmaster had forbidden him from speaking of what he knew to anyone. The whole affair was revolting. He was sick of this damn party already, and sick of hearing about it.

Which, unfortunately, had been the sole focus of conversation since he had arrived in the Great Hall this evening. The entire Slytherin Table was abuzz with it, as so many of them would, in fact, be attending. He wished there was some way he could just drown it all out, but even his attempts to bore into his books, brushing up for his examinations, was proving ineffective. The noise was incessant.

"Okay, wait," Barty piped up after a slight lull in the conversation. "So, you're telling me that _everyone_ gets to go to that party except _me_?"

"Hey, that's not even true!" Rabastan quickly interjected, glaring daggers at his housemate. " _I_ wasn't invited, either!"

"Yes, yes, it's all so _tragic_ ," the dark-haired woman's long eyelashes fluttered as she rolled her eyes at the pair of them. "Who knew applying oneself would actually pay off?"

Barty turned toward the Black woman with an exaggerated head spin. "You know what _else_ pays off? When you have _generous_ friends that invite you to these things."

"Hmm…," Bellatrix brought a perfectly manicured fingernail to her chin, as if considering this, before releasing a quiet, patronizing scoff. "That _would_ be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Ugh!" Rabastan turned his glare on her, then, his face skewed up in severe disapproval. "You're such a bitch!"

However, the woman merely offered a slight, assenting shrug of her shoulders in response.

"You _could_ invite me, you know," Barty continued right where he left off, ignoring Rabastan's little outburst altogether. "I _know_ you have a soft spot for me in there."

"You're delusional," Bellatrix returned only, with a single, dismissive wave of her hand, before she lowered it to her plate and proceeded to pop a grape between a pair of luscious, red lips.

"Well…I wanna go, _too_ ," Rabastan stated, his green eyes drifting around the table, until they landed on the matching pair that belonged to his older brother. "Hey… _Rodolphus_ …?"

The addressee slightly tilted his head to the side, not missing the sudden coyness in his brother's tone. His demeanor always had a way of changing around him—it had been that way ever since he was little. Some things never changed. Keeping his own voice calm, however, he simply replied, "Yes, _Rabastan_?"

"You're going to the party, right?" Rabastan continued, his tone forcefully offhanded, although it was obvious to everyone that he wasn't taking this lightly.

"Of course I am," Rodolphus stated casually, continuing to stare coolly at his brother as he waited for him to get to his point.

"Yeah," the boy gave a slight scoff, as he rolled his eyes. "Of _course_ you are."

A slight silence followed, in which Rodolphus continued to stare quietly, patiently, but Rabastan still could not seem to get the words out. When this went on for another several moments, Bellatrix finally got fed up with it and took it upon herself to break the silence.

"Good lord, just spit it out, already!"

"Shut-up," Rabastan returned, his eyes narrowing once more.

However, when this was all he said, Rodolphus then pressed, "Was there something you wanted to ask?"

"…You remember how you promised?" the younger Lestrange finally started moving toward his actual question. "Last Slug Party. Do you _remember_?"

Rodolphus' brows furrowed slightly as he offered the boy a somewhat incredulous stare. That was not a promise he could remember ever having made. Rabastan was clearly dramatizing the conversation they had last year, when, in a situation quite similar to this, he was complaining about his lack of an invitation. He did have a knack for finding something to constantly complain about, but perhaps allowing him to attend this particular party would stop his brother from going on about it altogether.

"Alright, you can come."

"I can?" Rabastan returned, his heart jumping in his chest momentarily, before a pleased smile overtook his entire countenance. "Good. 'Cause, you know, it _is_ Christmas."

"Rabastan…," his brother began slowly, "I just said yes."

"I know," the young Slytherin replied. "Thanks, brother."

"You're welcome," Rodolphus assured him.

Barty observed this entire exchange silently, his eyes narrowing a few times as he watched the entitled moron slowly get _exactly_ what he wanted. It wasn't even fair. An idea popped into his head at the mention of Christmas, and he nodded. Turning to Bellatrix then, he put on a composed air and casually stated, "So, Bellatrix…you know, it _is_ Christmas. It's a perfect opportunity to make up for some of the naughty things I'm _sure_ you did this year."

The young Black woman merely narrowed her eyes at him, her upper lip curling in a slight sneer, before she turned from the boy altogether with a shake of her head.

"Absolutely not," she informed him, her tone entirely unamused. "If you honestly think that's going to work on _me_ , then you really _are_ hopeless. You ask me, I think Rodolphus is being entirely too generous to little Mr. Whiney over there," she gave a brief gesture toward Rabastan, who went beyond a glare this time, but instead gave a quick, derisive spit in her direction.

"Oh, come on!" Barty exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table, and Bellatrix's dark eyes immediately snapped back to him. "I'm great at parties, and you _know_ it! I bet _anything_ I could bring to the table would be better than whatever _they've_ got. Man, I know music, and I _really_ doubt that old slug knows anything about it! Now, do you want another _boring_ Slug Club Party, or do you want _fun_?"

"Oh, god, _please_ tell me you're not going on about that stupid muggle music again!" Bellatrix half-pleaded, unable to contain yet another eye roll on his behalf.

"Yeah, I'm going on about it, 'cause muggle music is the shit, and it's _way_ better than this outdated wizard crap!" Barty defended vehemently. "You can't even _call_ that music! It's ancient!"

"No one wants to hear your damn muggle-loving garbage," Rabastan inserted, now spitting at Barty.

"Alright, that's enough," a calm voice drifted over the table, smooth as silk, as Lucius cast a critical, silver stare on the young Lestrange. He took care to shift the same look to both Bellatrix and Barty, before addressing the latter. "At this point, Bartemius, I think it would be best to just let it go, don't you? Bellatrix doesn't seem as though she's interested in agreeing to anything."

"Damn right, I'm not," she stated, crossing her arms determinedly in front of her chest.

"It is a shame you won't be attending, though," Lucius added, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I would take you, myself, but Narcissa's my plus one."

"That's right!" the younger Black sister piped up beside him, leaning forward to give her man a quick peck on the cheek.

"Man…," Barty released an exasperated sigh. "I was really hoping, but…tsk, you're right. I'm fighting a losing battle here, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so," Lucius afforded him a sympathetic smile.

As the usual babble continued amongst the group, another silent Slytherin sat beside Bellatrix, sipping absently on a cup of coffee, his onyx gaze fixed on the table across from him. The _Gryffindors_. They were such a cheerful bunch, smiling all the time and waltzing through life as if it were some kind of joke. Well, maybe that was stereotyping the entire House, perhaps _some_ of them took things seriously, but his opinion was entirely pointed to that ragtag group. The gang of troublemakers where the single Black _not_ in Slytherin blissfully placed himself.

He was always surrounded by his friends. Sirius was an insult to his family, an embarrassment, and there he was, laughing it up with those people, not a care in the world. He seemed happy…much happier than he ever was living at home, when he was surrounded by his family. Would it really have been _that_ difficult for him to stay? Stick it out for _two_ more years? He was going to graduate soon, be a recognized adult, and then he could go off and do whatever he wanted. That's what Sirius always did, of course, but there would have been an obvious difference if he had stayed. Something that actually mattered to the younger Black.

Sirius would've been there. He wouldn't be disowned, he would be mother and father's firstborn, the future of the entire family. He would still be Regulus' big brother. Not this…walking slap in the face that threw away his family and traded it for another one; that same group of friends he was having the time of his life with. Maybe James Potter was a better brother to him than Regulus ever was. He definitely had more in common with Sirius. Without a doubt, he would have his back and stand up for him. It was admirable of him, and Regulus couldn't help hating him for it.

Why was he even bothering with these thoughts again? He'd been cycling through the same thing for months, thinking the same things over and over again. Did he think it would change anything? Did he think it would bring him his brother back? He really lost him a long time ago, if he was being completely honest with himself. The moment Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, everything changed. The atmosphere at home was never the same, and the arguments started. At least that ended with Sirius' abandonment, but it didn't stop the ridicule from his mother, the praise for being _better_ than Sirius, the pressure to always be the _perfect_ son…but no matter how much he tried, he was never going to be better than his brother. His mother only looked to him, the _second_ son, because she had no other choice. He was the last chance to save the family from eternal ridicule, and that's exactly what he was going to do. Family was important to him, and he would do everything he could to protect it, even its honor as _The Noble and Most Ancient House._ There was great pride in that title. He would carry that within himself and make his family proud, proud to call him their son.

But, _damn,_ was he dreading the Slug Party. He was on Slughorn's honorary shelf, a spot he hardly had to work for, but it just wasn't enough. Every time he attended one of the parties, Slughorn would tell him how disheartening it was that he couldn't also have his brother in his collection, how disappointing that Sirius wasn't in Slytherin like all the other Blacks. Once again, another opportunity for someone to compare him to Sirius. The guy walked out on his _family_ , like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he was _still_ better than Regulus. There was some kind of irony in that. Not that he was really surprised. Sirius was such an impactful person. He would always stand out against his cowardly little brother who just followed along in his family's footsteps.

Regulus quickly tore his eyes away from the table, paranoia creeping in as Sirius turned his head in his direction. He wasn't looking at _him_ , of course. Sirius didn't care anymore, but Regulus would never hear the end of it if he got caught spying on his estranged brother. In the midst of his snooping, he noticed that Sirius was missing from classes earlier that day. He didn't look too well, either, when Regulus saw him in the halls yesterday. He was admittedly a _little_ concerned at the time, but he seemed better now. Well enough to sneak out of the Hospital Wing, at least. Typical Sirius move there.

"Are you sure that was such a good idea?" Remus was currently questioning his friend for this selfsame move.

"Of course it wasn't," Sirius instantly countered, "but that's what makes it fun, man."

As Remus shook his head admonishingly, their shorter friend jumped into the conversation with a squeaky voice, "Yeah! What if you got caught?"

"Since when have we cared about _that_?" James awarded the kid a mockingly appalled look.

"And besides," Sirius added, with an explanatory gesture of his hand, "what's the worst they could do? They would probably just send me back to the Hospital Wing."

"Tch," James pointed to his friend. "Exactly."

"Oh," Peter nodded, realization dawning on him.

"So, quit your worrying, Moony," the recent escapee concluded. "I'm here now, so let's make the most of it."

"Couldn't've said it better myself, buddy," James agreed, holding a hand up to his heart as he upturned the corner of his mouth with a playful glint in his eye.

Sirius responded to his friend's oh-so-thoughtful gesture with an amused smile. Turning his attention back to the rest of the group, he casually leaned on his elbow against the tabletop and asked, "So, who wants to catch me up?"

"Ooh! I'll go first!" Peter volunteered, excitedly shooting his hand into the air. "I had a free period this afternoon."

"Peter," Sirius began slowly, as though trying to get through to a _very_ small child, "you have a free period _every_ Monday. That's nothing new. I wanted to know if I missed something that actually _mattered_."

While their rat friend proceeded to seethe in his seat at this obvious dismissal, Remus reluctantly took it upon himself to fill him in.

"Well…," he started, as his eyes shifted uncontrollably in James' direction. How could he put this? He wanted to be both delicate, for James' sake, but direct, for Sirius'. "While you were out sick today in our Potion's class, Professor Slughorn announced his annual Christmas Party, and we were told we could bring dates. Of course, James tried to get Lily to take him, but…well, you know how that goes," he said, with a nervous chuckle.

"Unfortunately," Sirius conceded.

"Yes…," Remus gave a slow nod.

"Wait! Dates?!" Peter screeched, his head perking up at this piece of information. "Who are you taking, Remus? Is she pretty?"

"Well…yes," their friend allowed, though somewhat uncertainly. "I was just getting to that. At the end of it…Lily asked _me_ to accompany her."

Peter's mouth immediately fell open, his eyes widening more with the passing of each second, as Sirius' brow furrowed in mild shock. He hadn't really seen _that_ coming, but, now that Remus mentioned it, he couldn't say he was too surprised, either. He and Lily _had_ always gotten along well, and it would effectively take her off the market, so she wouldn't have to listen to any more demanding offers. It was a pretty smart move on her part, he had to give her that, though he also couldn't help feeling sympathy on his mate's behalf.

Still…he had to admit, the situation being what it was, it _was_ …kind of amusing. Particularly the way poor Remus was handling it all.

Turning his attention to his friend who had fallen surprisingly silent throughout the course of their discussion, he offered him a consoling smile. "You alright there, man?"

"Oh…peachy," James glanced aside then, to return Sirius' smile with a halfhearted grin of his own.

"Really?" Peter questioned skeptically. "'Cause you don't look it."

"No," Remus agreed, his brow creased in obvious worry. "James…I told you if you don't want me to, I won't go with her. I don't really mind going alone. We'll see each other at the party, as it is."

At this suggestion, James quickly shook his head, his expression turning somewhat admonishing as he said, "No, no. That's absolutely _not_ happening. What kind of friend would I be if I let you do something like that? Like you said, you're both going to the party anyway, so you might _as well_ go together."

"But-"

"Remus," his bespectacled friend cut him off, a very serious look on his face then. "You're going with her. It's fine. _Really_. I'm sure you guys'll have a blast."

"Well…alright," Remus returned, somewhat warily. "If you insist."

"I do, in fact," James stated, with a decisive nod of his head.

"Very well," the taller boy finally relented, releasing a heavy sigh.

"I guess that settles _that_ ," Sirius noted, at the conclusion of their exchange. His dark eyes then drifted toward the Great Hall's entrance and he gave a slight shake of his head. "Guess I should probably head back before they notice I'm gone," he mused, before rising to his feet. "You hang in there, alright, Prongs?"

"Of course," James cast him a quick smirk, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But only if _you_ promise to hurry on up and get better for me."

"I'll see what I can do," Sirius gave his friend a wink, before turning and making his way out of the hall.

"Bye, Sirius!" Peter hollered, waving emphatically at the retreating figure.

"Speaking of farewells," Remus began than, as he also rose to his feet, "I really should get to the library before it gets too late. I have a lot of studying I still need to work on."

"Studying? Oh, rats!" the portly boy cried, shaking his head in dismay. "I'm so behind on, like, _everything_! My homework is so _hard_!" Peter's eyes fell on his studious friend in the midst of his complaints, "Remus! Help!"

"Alright," his generous comrade allowed, gesturing for Peter to follow him. "But only if you promise to keep extra quiet while I'm studying."

"But what if I need help?"

"Well, I'll help you first, and then I'll do my studying while you're working on it," Remus explained, as he lifted his stack of books from the table and then cast one final, apologetic look toward James. "We'll see you back in the Common Room."

"Sounds like a plan," James returned, purposefully ignoring that look he was sending his way, and instead keeping up the same smirk from before. "You two have fun."

"Bye, James!" Peter exclaimed, before hurrying to trail behind Remus every step of the way.

As the two left the Great Hall behind them, the remaining Marauder let the smirk fall from his expression, and, with a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, he slumped forward against the table, sprawling one arm out in front of him and propping the other up at his elbow. Leaning his head to rest against his palm, he stared absently at the neglected mug of hot chocolate in front of him.

Today had been a real bust, hadn't it? Remus, Remus, Remus…that guy really was too sweet for his own good. Always putting him in such a tough position, without even trying. As if he could ever actually say _no_ to him, especially when he did his friend the decency of asking for his blessing in the first place. That just wasn't even _possible_. Besides, he supposed, if Lily _had_ to go with someone else, there were definitely worse alternatives. In fact, all things considered, that fine fellow was probably the _best_ choice—why, he could hardly even blame her for wanting to go with him!

But that didn't mean he wasn't still a little upset about it.

It wasn't very fair, feeling jealous of Remus like this, though. The guy didn't do anything wrong—hell, _she_ didn't do anything wrong, either. She asked a friend to a party, offered to buy a Christmas gift for the annoying guy who never let up, and then was forced to take the offer back when it turned out he was a bigger idiot than either of them thought. Nope, he was pretty much just feeling sorry for himself, at this point. And _that_ …was pretty damn pathetic.

Feeling a pair of eyes on him, then, James narrowed his eyes, just a fraction, as he lazily tilted his head in that general direction. Turned out, it was Miss Arabella Figg, resident squib herself, and wasn't _she_ looking mighty amused by what she saw? Glancing around at the empty seats surrounding her, the dark-haired Gryffindor furrowed his brow at her.

"You eating alone, Bells?"

"I wasn't at first," the blonde squib corrected, "then, Dorcas ditched me."

"Ah," James returned only, giving a nod of his head in response. "Seems I've fallen into a similar predicament, myself."

"Ohhh," Arabella responded with mock realization. "Is _that_ why there was a glum expression on your face?"

At this, her fellow Gryffindor again narrowed his eyes, before giving a subtle click of his tongue. "Hm…," he considered her question momentarily, before deciding, "you know… _kind of_."

Arabella narrowed her eyes slightly at her housemate and tilted her head, almost expectantly. " _Kind of_? What _else_ did it, then?"

"Well…," he began, feeling a slight reluctance at first, before releasing a long, over-dramatized sigh, and opting for a more humorous retelling of the situation. "I know this'll probably come as a _shock_ to you, Bells, but after spending the _entire_ afternoon trying to get a date out of Lily Evans to ole' Sluggy's annual yuletide party…the crazy gal turned me down flat, and decided to take one of my best friends instead. So," here, he lifted his free hand, in a defeated gesture, "obviously, I'm just doing what I can to recover from the devastation."

The Gryffindor girl listened quietly as James explained his situation, and she had no trouble envisioning it. Slughorn had made an announcement about his party in her own Potion's class just the other day. She had attended the last few, but they weren't all that special, in her opinion. Some people made such a big deal about it, but she never got it. It made sense for James, though. That party was yet another opening for him to try to sweep Lily off her feet.

It also made sense why the girl said no. As charming as James Potter was, he seemed to lose a bit of it when he was around his infamous crush. That genuine side of him took a bit of a backseat as he used flirtation after flirtation on her. He came off as much more annoying than he actually was. In Arabella's opinion, he wasn't annoying at all when he acted like himself. He was simply amusing. Lily only needed a chance to see that, but it was difficult when James only showed an over-dramatized, obnoxious version of himself.

As for asking Remus to go with her, he was a very safe option. They were friends, and Remus was such a sweetie. Quiet, but always sweet. Almost the exact opposite of James. And wasn't that what Lily was used to? Being around someone that wasn't _really_ who James was? Maybe there was a way they could try to open her eyes.

A sudden smirk crossing her lips, Arabella repositioned herself into the seat beside her fellow Gryffindor and leaned in conspiratorially. "What if you don't have to be completely devastated by her decision?"

At her suggestion, a single brow quirked up on James' face, and he immediately picked his head up. He could sense a plot from a mile away. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Well," the blonde began, her smirk widening as she watched his instant change in demeanor, " _I_ am actually invited to that party, and I haven't chosen a plus one yet. I figure, why not take _you_ with me? You can still be at the party with Lily, just not as her date. And we can have fun, too. We always do. And _that's_ where the second part comes in. She's never seen you in a setting like that before, _especially_ ," here, Arabella paused to gesture to herself, "with another girl around. She'll see you having a good time with me, and it's kind of a chance for her to see you acting more like yourself. If all goes well, she _might_ even get a little jealous."

"…Huh," James mused, leaning back in his seat as he silently took in this plan of hers.

It wasn't bad, actually. She _did_ make a good point—two good points, actually. For the first, it was true that he tended to act a little differently around Lily. Overly flirtatious, overly demanding, overly conceited, just overall… _overbearing_. He couldn't deny that he was a bit much, but he could hardly even help himself, most of the time. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing, if he just tried toning it down sometimes when he was around her. And as for the _second_ point, it was also true that he'd never even considered going on anything remotely resembling a date with any girl _other_ than Lily. Still…

"You think that'd actually make her _jealous_?" he questioned somewhat skeptically. "I mean, in order to feel jealous, she'd first have to _want_ what you're getting here, and, well…I think she's established pretty clearly that she doesn't."

Arabella tapped her cheek thoughtfully a moment as she considered that, before simply shrugging. "You know, it may be _established_ , but sometimes people don't know what they want until they _don't_ have it. I doubt she's had a _reason_ to feel jealous before."

"Hm…no," James allowed, with a slow, thoughtful nod of his head. "She hasn't. Guess I've never _given_ her a reason to."

"And that's good of you. You don't play games," Arabella assured him, as she reached over to give him a mockingly patronizing pat on the leg. "But that's not the main reason we're doing this. It would just be a plus."

"I see," her accomplice returned, as a smirk finally found its way back to the corner of his mouth. "Just a perk, if it _does_ happen. Hm…," he lifted his hand then, to his chin, as he narrowed his hazel eyes once more. He took a brief moment, before giving a single, decisive nod of his head, "You know…I think I rather like this plan of yours, Arabella."

Her smirk only widened at the sight of his, "I like it, too."

"Well," he gave a slight roll of his eyes at this, "of course _you_ do. You're the one who came up with it. We do have a tendency of falling in love with our own ideas, after all."

"Excuse me, sir," Arabella pointed at him with a somewhat scolding tone, "but I'll have you know that I'm not delusional enough to not notice a terrible plan, _even_ if it's one of my own."

"Then, that makes _one_ of us!" James declared, pointing at her in turn, with a smug smile.

"I believe that," she stated simply.

They sat there together for awhile longer, plotting out the details of their ingenious plan, but slowly, more and more, the crowd began to dwindled down, as students filed out of the hall, some returning to their dorms, some to remote corners of the castle to study. One redhead in particular made her way up the grand staircase, with every intention of returning to her Common Room, but her path was momentarily interrupted when something caught the corner of her dazzling emerald eyes.

A single tapestry hung on the wall beside the staircase, depicting a common medieval scene. There was a market, filled with peasants and knights, lords and ladies, with a castle towering in the background. It was such a simple image, yet that in itself told so much about the simplicity of the time. Countless people were mistreated, especially those in the lower class, but they were the majority, and they understood each other. They suffered the same, but they made the best of it. They lived to survive in a brutal time, and there was something so irreplaceably admirable about that. She wondered what it would have been like to live in a world like that. Silly things like class rank and Christmas parties wouldn't even matter; only the important things.

When she first came to Hogwarts, it was almost like entering a medieval world. Travelling by boat in amazement as the ancient castle grew closer and closer, the water's shiny surface reflecting the luminescent glow of the lanterns, but there was still something so different about it. Hogwarts was filled with magic and wonder, but it still put trivial things first. The little things were taken so seriously, like grades and house points and quidditch matches and what they would do after school. In medieval times, there wasn't even a choice. You did what you could to make it by. Every moment was precious.

Lily wished that, just once, she could experience something like that. Living in a world where everyone prioritized survival, and held onto what really mattered. But, nothing could truly relate to how things were in that time, not anymore.


End file.
